emotera

it has been a while since i have been to this place. Time has not completely erased my scars, nor has it blotted out the memory of what took place. i want none of this. i want nothing to do with this again. that is why i had to go. i had to escape, to flee from this prison that was consuming every inch of my sanity. i sought the simplicity of the life i once lived, the life immaculate of doubts and complexities. but at the very moment i thought i was free, i was brought captive again to this place i have avoided for so long.

and now as i plant my feet into the familiar soil, my breath leaves me, for i know what is there to welcome me. joy, fear, hope, love pain - altogether mixed up in a bottle of confusion and uncertainty. yet, knowing the consequences, knowing that i pursue a despairing dream, i still go on. my strides remain constant, going against my better judgement not to proceed.

i have drained all vitality, every single drop of life from my core that i may never feel again, that i may keep my soul from being lost once more in the great abyss. but to my dismay, it has been taken again. my will has been weakened, and so i yield.

perhaps i have been so cursed that every step i take is a journey towards you that no matter where i am, where i run to, or what i do, i will remain to be forever yours….

someday my prince will come. he’ll come into my life (that is, if he hasn’t yet) and sweep me off my feet.

in the era of angsty Avril and melancholic Sarah Mac. fans, i still swoon over love songs with predictable melodies and sating (read: nakakasuka) love-conquers all themes. i get kilig over mushy chick flick lines and romantic novels and have pretended to be the bida in one too many romantic comedies. i chose to join the bandwagon of believers rather than the throng of bitter cynics who see cupid as a little devil, and are disgusted by mush.

not that i haven’t wavered before. i’ve seen hearts get broken and fools settle for far-from-healthy relationships. i’ve even experienced heartbreak myself. and just like the sad love songs put it, it wasn’t fun at all. no happy pill worked, no hospital admitted the dying-from-heartbreak patient, not evenm a gallon of strawberry ice cream helped. after buckets of tears cried over "the one who didn’t seem to notice", "the one who went away" or "the one who took me for granted", i felt like giving up and bidding my love dreams goodbye.

i found out, however, that everytime i get back on my feet and was happily sober, or after each time i mended my heart, or following every improved relationship dynamic, love still promised so much despite, in spite, and precisely bacause of the nitty-gritty details that initially make it unbearable.